


Sweet to the Soul, Health to the Bones

by wildhalos



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Harry really likes Tyler Knott Gregson, M/M, Poetry, Secret Admirer, louis really likes harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-31
Updated: 2014-07-31
Packaged: 2018-02-11 05:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2055183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildhalos/pseuds/wildhalos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“When you walk in, every single thing stops.  I see you, only.”</em><br/>Someone keeps declaring their love on the brick wall outside Louis’s office window.  It's possible Louis should be concerned, but the romantic in him would like to believe a stalker would use something slightly more vicious than chalk and pretty words.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet to the Soul, Health to the Bones

**Author's Note:**

  * For [goldenquill](https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenquill/gifts).



> Title of this work is from Harry's tweet which he got from Proverbs 16:24: Pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and health to the bones.

The first time Louis notices it, it’s not even eight am and he already feels like he could rip his hair out. He gets three steps into his office before he halts in the path to his desk, sees the tag written on the brick wall across the alleyway from his window: 

_“When you walk in, every single thing stops. I see you, only.” –Tyler Knott Gregson_

He’s seen his fair share of vandalism, been an accomplice in a few pieces as well, but this—written in chalk no less—with its careful script and gentle words, tugs at something inside of Louis. 

He can’t remember the last time he really smiled in the office, but for the rest of the day he keeps peeking out the window to check that the art is still there, and each time he feels a little lighter.

>>

It’s not that Louis’s expecting to see a message the next day. He’s learned enough in this office to stop getting his hopes up on wild dreams, but he likes to be practical. The previous day on his lunch break he’d stopped by the art in the alley to find it was even more breathtaking up close, though he couldn’t very well spend his day gazing in an alleyway. Which is why today he’s packed away a pair of binoculars. Just in case.

He is not disappointed.

_“Would the weight of my and in yours help you forget the weight of the world on your shoulders? I’d like to try.”_

>>

There’s a piece Zayn has been working on for what seems like centuries now, sketches that have littered his floor and trash can every time Louis’s come to visit him and outlines that have been making him pull his hair out, but it’s all finally coming to vision. 

Louis finds him in his studio after work one day. He’s there more days than not at this point, and Louis makes a habit of visiting him when he gets knee deep in a project and decides to live in the studio, lest he never see another living, breathy person for weeks on end. 

The piece he’s working on currently has live models, at least. Zayn’s doing something on a burglar’s aesthetic, and he’s got three presumably male models decked out in all black and wearing ski masks while striking oddly forceful poses.

However, that doesn’t stop Louis from coming by almost every day. He does it to check on Zayn. That’s all.

“But they’re the most lovely little messages,” Louis sings one afternoon to Zayn’s supposedly listening ear. He’s busy mixing a black paint because apparently the black he actually purchased won’t suffice for what he really needs. The models are taking a break, but Zayn must have forewarned them because even in their relaxed positions they won’t talk to Louis no matter how much he pesters them. “They’re in character,” Zayn had said on the first day when all of Louis’s attempts at banter had gone unanswered, “and their characters wouldn’t like you.”

Louis is not deterred and has since made a game of trying to get the models to crack. It’s starting to look more like tourists trying to annoy the Royal Guard outside of Buckingham Palace, but it keeps Louis entertained, and he’d guess only about one of the models is actually annoyed by it. 

He doesn’t need to bother them though when Zayn will just listen to his stories. 

“Whoever it is, that’s not just like a good person,” Louis says swaying around one of the pillars in the room, tie loose and shirt unbuttoned. “They have to be like a good soul, you know? Cause they’re getting nothing out of it; they’re just making people happy in the world’s most dreary office square, and that’s so,” he spins around the pillar to substitute the words he can’t form.

“You know, I remember when you used to come home excited about that job of yours. Why are you always bitching now? Actually,” Zayn says holding up a finger to Louis’s already opened mouth, “don’t answer that.”

Zayn has a point. Louis remembers barging into the apartment they shared at the time squealing about the amazing job offer he’d just gotten at his choice advertising company. There’d been a whirlwind year, and he was an easy pick of favorite from his superiors. So much so that he’d been moved up to the second floor, whereas most people his age staged on the first for at least another year. 

It had been an amazing opportunity, but it quickly made Louis an outcast at work, his old friends finding him to high up to talk to, his new coworkers finding him too young and threatening to accept. That paired with the monotonous work that comes with second floor has admitted sucked some of the life out of him. He still does his work, of course, and a good job at that, but he’s bored. Second floor isn’t his future. His building only has six levels, but the company has a bigger office across town. The big leagues. Second floor is only a stepping stone for him, but his fire is waning.

Except. Then he sees those little messages everyday and he feels a little spark start to flicker back inside of him.

“What if the chalker is in love, Zayn?” Louis chimes suddenly clutching his heart. “What if they’re planning to propose to someone in the building?”

“I thought you said they’re not all love letters,” says Zayn not bothering to look up from his palette. 

“That’s true. What do you guys think?” Louis asks turning to the models who have stretched out their limbs, but still have yet to say anything. 

He only gets radio silence. 

Louis huffs. “I don’t know what you told them about me, Malik, but I’ll get you.”

~*~

Harry is torn. On the one hand, he’s having trouble breathing. On the other he’s never been so happy to have a mask hiding his face as he is during the five nights a week he finds himself in Zayn’s studio.

The artist had warned Harry and his fellow models about his friend that often came to visit him, but with Zayn being one of the most brooding people he’s ever met, Louis Tomlinson is the last thing he’d envisioned. 

He practically dances around the room as he goes on about his day. “This is the one from today,” he’ll say showing off his phone from where he has apparently picked up a habit of photographing each little message outside his office window. He’d shown a few of them to Harry, completely unaware of how close Harry’s heart had gotten to leaping out of his chest each time. “Isn’t it beautiful?” he’ll ask to which Zayn will reply “Sounds amazing” in a way that tells Harry he’s lost interest in most of Louis’s stories ages ago.

Harry though, Harry is fresh meat, and he hangs on with baited breath to all of Louis’s stories even when they don’t feature his rogue vandalist agenda.

“Sounds amazing,” Harry tells Louis one evening after he’s just finished describing his latest advert idea. Harry’s found in the short time that he’s been working with Zayn that his friend is nothing if not ridiculously persistent, and has somehow weighed all the models down enough to at least acknowledge him on their breaks. They don’t take their masks off lest they “loose character” and Cranky Craig still barely gives him the time of day, but Harry has been caught hook, line, and sinker.

"Yeah," Louis blusters. "There's a board meeting next week, so we'll see if I get to present it then."

"I hope you do." Harry answers truthfully as he reminds himself to breath, breath! It’s just a pretty boy with an amazing personality that got Harry so gone for him he was tagging the building next to his office three days after meeting him. Average, everyday activities really.

“Thanks Green Eyes,” Louis smiles at him and Harry melts into the wall he’s leaning against at the use of his nickname. According to Louis himself, Green Eyes is his favorite of the models because he laughs at Louis’s jokes and not just politely like the others. Harry’s grown quite fond of his status as Louis’s Favorite, which he’s sure to rub into Liam’s face every night when they leave the studio.

"Zayn should be back soon," Craig reminds them all, and Harry immediately becomes alert and moves to stretch before heading back to position. But not before knocking over several cans of Zayn's brushes, a domino effect that takes out a whole row and makes an annoyingly incriminating clatter in the process.

"Oh," he says surprised at the same time Louis mutters "Shit" and dives down to sort out the mess in a panic. Harry’s considering melting into the wall for completely different reasons now as he bends over to help, his hands moving swiftly along with Louis's.

"I'm sorry," he's saying sounding flustered and embarrassed. 

"No, it's fine," Louis assures waving a hand at him. "Just gotta get these fixed before Zayn gets....here." The last part only barely peters out and when Harry glances over at Louis he sees he’s stopped sorting the brushes and is just staring.

"You...lifted your mask," Louis belatedly points out.

"Oh, yeah," Harry says reaching up a hand to his uncovered face as if he’d only just noticed himself. "I couldn't see much, and I didn't think you should do all the work yourself since it was clearly my fault." He looks up from where he was surveying the floor for any evidence they could have left behind and shoots Louis a smirk. "I guess since I'm not in character anymore we can properly meet now?"

Louis blinks at him but nods nonetheless, eager and smiling.

"I'm Louis," the man says extending a hand, and at least one of them still has functioning brain power.

"Harry," he responds grasping Louis hand. "Nice to finally meet you," Harry can’t help laughing because the joke is much more clever than anyone else will understand it is, but that’s not going to stop him from enjoying it.

>>

_“I will shiver when you touch me. Do not be offended; you are the warmest person I know.”-Meghan Lynn_

Harry’s been chalking the building for two weeks when he finds himself in the basement of said building where a small café is tucked away. As it turns out waking up at four a.m. every morning to vandalize a building is extremely taxing on his sleeping pattern, and he’s found that if he plans to get any writing done during the day he needs to do it outside of his apartment. 

Though being in the café so close to his chalking has made him realize how popular his work has become to everyone else that visits the area. Somehow Harry had overlooked the fact that his art would be seen by people who aren’t Louis, and though he’d agree it’s ill advised to return to the scene of the crime, he’s also getting some grade A motivation sitting at his corner table.

He’s got a notebook with him, little scribbling and thoughts he’s bouncing around for tomorrow’s display. “I think your smile could blind even the sun.” “I am nothing more than a million thoughts of you swimming inside of me. –TKG” “When you move, I can’t think straight. (bu dum tiss).” Some are better than others. 

He’s bent over his journal in deep concentration trying to find words that will do justice to Louis’s eyes when he hears a cheery greeting above him.

“Harry,” a perky voice says, and Harry looks up and knows that anything he’s just written about those ocean blues are completely inadequate compared to real thing. He’s just about to scrap the few lines he’s got down when his brain catches up to him and his own eyes bulge halfway out of his head as he snatches his notebook into his lap, his back going straight as a board.

“Louis, uh,” he blanks as he tries to remember how to bring the pitch of his voice back to its normal range.

“Oh, uh,” Louis backtracks confused, “sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. Just thought I’d say hi, since you were sitting alone. Maybe should have considered it was intentional, eh?” Louis laughs clearly feeling uncomfortable. “I’ll just see you around.”

“Wait,” Harry says grabbing for Louis’s wrist without thinking before he can get too far away. “Sorry you just caught me off guard, but I’d love if you stayed.” His eyes are maybe too wide and earnest for a mid day conversation about lunch arrangements, but Louis has mercy on him regardless.

“So is this place becoming cool enough for models?” Louis asks accepting the seat across from Harry. 

He’s in what has got to be a tailor made suit and looks heart breakingly good with his tie done up and his shoes shined. Harry’s wishing he’d thrown on something other than a pastel jumper and a beanie that’s not even covering the mess his hair was this morning. He can feel a few of the springy bits hitting his neck.

“Actually,” Harry says trying to concentrate on something other than the poems he’s going to write about Louis’s slicked back hair, “I’m not a model by trade.”

Louis cocks his head at him, so he continues.

“Yeah, um, Zayn and I are in the same arts society? I’m a writer, and since writers don’t make much and the artists usually can’t afford professional models, we strike up a deal every once and a while.”

“Oh,” Louis says. “That’s actually pretty cool.”

“Yeah, it is,” Harry agrees. “So, um, what about you? Is this place a good spot for advert businessmen?”

Louis laughs at that. Score one for Harry. “Yeah, but that could mostly be because our building is right next door. I’d say I eat here almost every day.”

Harry amazingly doesn’t mention the part where he knows Louis’s building is next door, but he makes the mistake of not saying anything at all, too transfixed by Louis’s eyelashes as he looks down at his sandwich. There’s always something. Louis looks up at him confused again and Harry shoots out the first thing that comes to his mind.

“Every day?” Harry asks on the fly.

“Yeah? I mean, it’s convenient.”

“But they don’t have that many sandwiches here.”

“I usually just stick to turkey on rye anyway,” Louis shrugs.

Harry’s frown deepens and genuine concern builds now.

“Wrong answer, I’m guessing?” Louis asks, mouth half full.

“Louis you work in the heart of the city. You can’t tell me you eat a turkey sandwich every day.”

“Um,” Louis backpedals flustered, “Sometimes I bring some pizza rolls from home?”

Harry’s head hits the table. “No, no, no,” his whine is muffled into the crevice of his arm.

“I thought you said you were a writer, not a chef. What’s the problem here?” Louis asks more amused than offended.

When he’s coaxed Harry’s head off the table, an idea has sparked. “Let me take you to lunch.”

Louis blinks. “We’re eating lunch already.”

“Right,” Harry says perplexed as if he’d forgotten. “Tomorrow then. I’d feel really guilty if I knew about your eating situation and did nothing about it.”

“You know, people usually know me a lot longer before I let them insult me like this.”

He’s met with a grin. “Doesn’t sound like a no.”

Louis can only roll his eyes. “Lunch better be amazing for all the shit you’re talking,” he concedes stuffing more turkey into his mouth. “And let me tell you, you’re gonna be hard pressed to beat pizza rolls. Those things are delicious.”

~*~

It soon becomes “their thing” after that. Harry will text Louis an obscure address right before his lunch break and Louis will meet Harry at some place he’s never been for Chinese or pasta or the fluffiest pastries Louis’s ever tasted in his life. Louis figures out in no time that Harry is a romantic which works well for him because now he has someone who never tires of hearing about all the chalkings. Sometimes Harry seems more excited than Louis.

It’s strange because Louis hasn’t made this good a friend this quickly since primary school. And it maybe doesn’t hurt that his new friend is as fun to look at as he is to talk to.

Louis had noticed a thing or two about the man the first few times he’d come to annoy Zayn, cataloged the details in his brain: amazing eyes, friendly, deep voice, good hands, generally fit if the way his tunic clings to his body is anything to go by, etcetera, yet somehow he's never put all that together into the one very attractive package in front of him now every day from at lunch. Louis had practically swallowed his tongue the first time he’d gotten a full picture, his brain too busy processing porcelain skin and full, pink lips and little tufts of curls that peak out from behind the cutest little ear. He’s kept himself under control thus far keeping his title as Louis, King of CoolTM

Perhaps the best part about being with Harry though is that he understands that Louis doesn’t just need an audience. What he really wants is someone he can banter with, someone who will not only take the quips he offers but give them right back to him. As much as he loves his friends and as stomach swooping as the chalkings continue to be everyday, Louis can’t help but notice it’s Harry who slides right into the number one bright spot of his day.

>>

“You have to say the words, Harry.”

“I did!”

“No you said ‘Mmm.’ You have to actually say it.”

Harry hangs his head in defeat, so Louis knows he’s got him cornered. He looks up at Louis from under his lashes with one last plea before crumples. “These pizza rolls are delici—“

“These pizza rolls are delicious!” Louis screams cutting him off. “Thank you!”

Harry leans forward to laugh with him, taking up all his space. “I’ve been taking you to lunch for almost two weeks now. Are you saying you didn’t appreciate it?”

“No, no, darling. I’m just pointing out that though I might be more cultured now, you can’t say I was suffering beforehand. I make the world’s best pizza rolls.”

He can practically feel the room rolling their eyes at him, but no one disputes because it’s true. He knows the exact amount of time to microwave them so that they’re crispy on the edges but soft in the middle. Harry and Zayn aren’t the only ones making art these days, and Louis has perfected his craft. 

“I’ll finish prepping these,” he announces pulling himself out of his own gloating. “Put the movie on?”

Harry smirks at him, sneaks another pizza roll into his mouth, and exits to the living room.

Louis is biting back a smile while he get the microwave going and almost jumps out of his skin when a hand touches at his waist. 

“Oh, Zayn,” he says trying to slow the hammering of his heart.

“Disappointed to see me?” There’s mischief in his eyes so Louis knows to put his guard up.

“Nope,” he says going for casual. “Just frightened me is all. These should be done in a minute.”

Zayn hums, pauses. “So you invited him to boys’ night.”

There it is. 

“Well Niall bailed,” he says launching into his already rehearsed speech, “and Harry and Liam were just going to be at their place watching a movie anyway, and since otherwise it would have just been me and you—“

“Because you have such a problem hanging out with just me these days.”

“Zayn.”

“Louis,” Zayn sings back smug.

Louis is not a fan of this conversation. “Do you have something you want to say, Malik?”

“Me?” Zayn asks mock perplexed. “Nope,” he says popping the P so Louis knows he’s being imitated now. 

“Great, well then we can just drop it,” answers Louis in faux kindness.

“Sure. Except…”

“Whaaat?” Louis whines because this is truly torturous. 

“It’s just you used to find me after work to complain about your job. Every day, you did.” Louis blinks at him. “And then for a little while you come around with heart eyes about the ‘pretty words’ outside your window. And nooow,” he drags it out, “you still have heart eyes—did I mention this is every day?—but you’re always talking about a pretty boy and his pretty smile and his pretty eyes—“

“You could make me sound marginally less pathetic, Z.”

Giggling, Zayn slings an arm around Louis’s neck. “I’m just pointing out a few things you have a habit of missing is all.”

“Do we have to come force you two out of the kitchen?” Harry’s voice rings from the next room. 

“Coming!” Louis yells back a smile gracing his face in a split second as he slips out of Zayn’s hold to grab the rest of the plates. He halts half way out the kitchen, turns back to see Zayn eying him from the counter. “Not that I’m like, eager or anything.”

Zayn gives him a big closed mouth smile and a “Mhmm” that says more than Louis cares to know.

>>  
Going into the office on Monday, Louis is extra excited as he often is after a weekend without seeing any messages. Last week’s had been a doozy. Though the chalker usually has a decent mix of quotes and what louis assumes to be their own words, last week louis had been met with five days of words by a poet called Gregson; Louis thinks the chalker likes him a lot. He tries to remind himself to stay mellow lest all his excitement leave him underwhelmed by whatever the message is today. 

At the very least, he's definitely dumbfounded.

_"Knock, knock. Who's there? Iva. Iva who? I've a sore wrist and knuckles from knocking on this brick wall!"_

Louis is confused. 

He stares at the joke on the wall, definitely written in the chalker's script and wonders what kind of deep end his dear friend is traveling down before he peels over in a fit of laughter. He legitimately can't stop himself, and it's so ridiculous because Louis despises knock knock jokes. He can't stand them, and yet here he is causing a ruckus in the office at eight in the morning while he howls like a maniac. Clamping a hand over his mouth, he takes in a breath to calm himself as he makes his way to his desk. Leave it to the freaking chalker to be the first to ever make him genuinely laugh at a knock knock joke.

>>

The previous day was all fun and games, but Louis fully expects it to be a fluke as he makes his way into the office the next day. Tuesday indeed does not bring a knock knock joke. Tuesday doesn't bring any words at all actually. Instead Louis sees a picture equipped with a sun with a smiley face drawn on, one giant flower, what looks from here like a bunny, and very tall blades of grass. 

Louis has to admit he deflates a little. It's a very cute picture, though it's clear the chalker isn't getting prices for their artwork any time soon. The bunny has big round eyes and the sun's smile is one that make you want to mirror it for yourself. It's just that Louis's worried about where this is going and if he'll ever get the original work back. 

He won't admit that he still looks out the window for the rest of the day, each time giving the same little smile he always does.

~*~

“Why can’t a bike stand on its own? Because it’s two tired.”

"Harry--"

“Why didn’t the lifeguard save the hippie?”

"H, I'm begging yo--"

“Because he was too far out man! Oh! How does NASA organize their company parties? They planet.”

"Harold!" Louis barks, but all the heat is taken off by the way he's now peeled over in laughter.

"No wait, I have another," Harry says just as Louis reaches up to slap a hand over his mouth. 

"No more," Louis commands, a challenge in his eyes. 

"Say I'm funny."

"Hilarious," Louis conceeds. "Now please stop."

Harry’s chalking for the past week has continued much the same: little drawings of various zoo animals and jokes that make him chuckle, but Harry can’t help but notice Louis hasn't been talking about it nearly as much. He still shows Harry the pictures everyday at lunch though, Harry still pretending to be oblivious as he smiles on. He’s taken to distracting both himself and Louis these days with as many jokes as he can.

"You need more humor in your life, Tomlinson," Harry says around the slice of pizza he'd dragged Louis to eat today. 

"Feel free to keep my supply up, Styles."

It's quiet for a minute, both of them just enjoying their food. Louis pops a pepperoni into his mouth as the toe of Harry's boot fiddles with his foot under the table. They exchange soft smiles as they continue eating.

"You said the picture today was a giraffe?" Harry pipes up after a while. Louis nods around his mouth full of food.

"Oh that reminds me, I have the best joke about a giraffe. I made it up myself, you're gonna die."

>>

Harry’s not sure how he got so invested, but it’s cold this morning and darker than usual in the alley way as he stares at today’s finished product. Louis texted his guess as to what kind of animal “the chalker” would leave today. He'd thought maybe a lion, but had decided the chalker’s skill level might not be up to par for that and had just settled on birds before he’d told Harry he was turning in for the night. 

Harry dusts his hands off as he packs his supplies and walks away.

_"Maybe I’ve been stalling. I keep trying to write about your laugh. I was never taught the words for something so breathtaking."_

~*~

Harry has nice thighs. Thick but soft, makes for a good pillow. It's not that Louis spends much time thinking about it, but a fact's a fact, so he catalogues it away on his list of Harry related things. Currently, he's lying on the floor of Zayn's studio with his head rested on Harry's lap, and feeling joyously comfortable as Harry strokes through his hair.

"But you used to like it, yeah?"

"Course," Louis answers playing with a string of Harry's black sweater. "I wouldn't have taken the job otherwise, you know?"

Louis watches as he nods but offers nothing else, so he knows Harry wants him to continue. "Just I was really good when I started there, yeah? Like really really good. And I got promoted before anyone else on the first floor almost a year earlier than normal. But now my old friends from the first floor don't know how to talk to me and the people on the second floor saw me as some kind of threat or something so," he waves his hands around at a loss for words. 

"I dunno, it's just kind of a drag."

Harry frowns. "But there are good parts of your day."

"Yeah, absolutely. You for example," Louis answers before his brain has time to send a red alert to his mouth, but before he can sufficiently freak out a smile breaks across Harry's whole face, shining in his eyes and showing off all his teeth, and Louis can't regret saying it anymore. 

"You're a good part of my day too," Harry returns. "I mean, you're okay, at least."

"Well I have actually never," Louis starts to banter back before he's interrupted by a loud scream entering the room.

"Zeeeee!! Where are you?!" Niall says rounding a pillar into the room. "Louis!" he greets when he spots him.

"Ni, where have you been?" Louis asks because it's been ages since Niall's shown his face around them.

"Ugh, don't even get me started. My boss has been kicking my arse trying to train up these new interns except they're bloody useless! First chance I've had to get away in a month! Where's Zayn?"

"Stepped out for a minute. He should be back soon."

Niall hums, belatedly surveys the room before smirking down at Louis who's still nested in Harry's lap. "Who's this then?" he asks.

"Oh sorry," Louis says jolting up. "This is Harry," he introduces as they shake hands. "He's one of Z's models. And over there looking at all of Zayn's old pieces is Liam, and I don't know where the snooty third one went, but you wouldn't like him anyway."

They both give Louis a laugh for his effort, and Louis offhandedly thinks maybe the trio of them should hang out more often.

"So, how's it going?" Niall asks. "How's your stalker been?"

"What?" Louis asks taken aback.

"You know, the stalker. Chalker stalker, whatever you call him."

Louis laughs then. "Just chalker is fine Niall."

"Whatever man. A buddy of mine thinks he saw him one day."

"It's a guy?" Louis asks intrigued. 

"Think so. Says he wears all black and a hoodie and goes over at arse crack in the morning."

"Horan, why can I hear you five rooms away?" Zayn reenters the room with a smile and a finger pointed at them. "And, no I'm not going out tonight."

"I knew you were ignoring my texts!" Niall says jumping over to grab Zayn into a hug. "I was just talking to Louis here about his situation."

Amusement flickers across Zayn's face. "Oh yeah, his chalker stalker."

"Zayn c'mon!" pipes Louis feeling more and more attacked as his friends laugh in front of him. He shoots Harry a glance and rolls his eyes at them, but doesn't notice that Harry has been uncharacteristically silent thus far. "If you two are going to treat me like this I'll just leave."

"No, no," Niall says coming over for him. "Come out with me tonight! I need someone there to take my mind off work, please?" he begs. Louis rolls his eyes again, but he's never been one to stay angry for long.

"Alright, alright," he agrees then turns to Harry. "Wanna come with?"

Harry doesn't meet his eyes for more than a second. "Uh, can't. I have to work."

"Haz, come on, you'll be done with this in no time," Louis says reaching for his wrist. 

"No," Harry says forcefully enough that Louis drops his hand in surprise before he continues, "I just mean I have some writing I was planning on doing tonight, so you know. I can't go out." He looks closed off all of a sudden.

"Okay," Louis says amicably trying to convey that he understands. He does however take a step closer and lower his voice so only they can hear. "But are you alright?" he asks softly. 

Harry takes a deep breath. "Yeah, I'm just trying to get back into character. I know it's abrupt, sorry."

"It's fine," Louis replies. "I’ll just see you tomorrow then?" 

Harry nods and makes his way back to where Zayn is positioning the other models and when Louis leaves he doesn't really feel up to partying anymore. 

>>

When Louis walks into his office the next day, he wonders if he's even in the right place.

There's no message on the wall.

~*~

It’s been three days since Harry’s decided to stop chalking outside of Louis’s window, and everyone is in a piss poor mood. It’s not that he was especially offended by the stalker comments, so much as what he was doing had become much more of a reality. It had taken the blunt description of his actions to remind himself that he actually had no idea where this was supposed to be headed. In truth, the first display had just been a one off impulse at three in the morning when he kept trying to write but could only think of a tin high laugh and cut cheekbones. He hadn’t even realized the wall was in direct view of Louis’s office at the time, had chalked it up to luck (read: fate).

The fact is though, he needed a good snapping to attention because at some point he would like to stop lying to the man he’d grown so fond of and maybe have an open conversation about all of this to his face. And Harry’s not sure how well that’s going to go over if Louis finds out he’s kept him in the dark for so long. Nor is he certain Louis won’t just figure out the chalking are from Harry on his own, as they’d become much more specific with each passing day that they’d spent together, Louis becoming less of an enigma and more of Harry’s wildest dreams come true.

He’s just reaffirming to himself that putting a stop to the madness was a good idea as he makes his way to meet Louis for lunch when he passes through the alleyway and has to do a double take. There stuck to the wall atop the residual chalk from days gone is a sticky note. 

Harry tries to act as casual as possible as he makes his way over to get a closer read of it.

_Are you coming back? I wish you would._

It’s written in Louis’s script. 

Harry’s heart feels like it’s jumping from his stomach to his throat when he grabs the note, sticks it in his pocket, and stalks off.

~*~

It’s not that Louis had expected the chalker to keep on forever, but that also doesn’t stop him from instinctively looking up from his desk everyday only to be crushed when he yet again remembers there’s nothing there. He still meets Harry for lunch every day and Zayn still listens even when their talks consist more of Louis whining, but it still feels weird and there’s a constant reminder all the time that keeps weighing down on him.

Walking into the office the next day, Louis already feels dejected, residual embarrassment from his pleas with a brick wall to give him the pretty words back hanging over his head like a glaring light. He means to avoid his window and maybe just keep the blinds drawn all day, but he can’t help but glance at least for a second.

_“I could never leave if all you ask is that I stay.”_

Louis pauses for a second, happiness bubbling just under the surface when he realizes today’s words are almost definitely in response to his sticky note. Aren’t they?

And? Oh. Are the messages for him?

“Oh my god, it really is a chalker stalker,” he whispers to himself before glancing around suspiciously and hoping no one A: sees him talking to himself and B: jumps out to attack.

He counts it as luck that neither happens.

>>

Louis decides to keep his thoughts on the matter to himself as most of his friends will only make fun of him anyway. He does, however, pick up a new habit of leaving sticky notes with comments for each day’s message, just as a reminder that someone does in fact appreciate the chalker’s efforts. 

They’re nothing critically acclaimed—merely simple comments like “This one’s lovely” and “Only you can talk about leaves this way” and “Yes, this is a very nice drawing of a kitten; you’re getting much better these days.”

He leaves them on his way out to lunch and more days than not, his sticky notes are gone by the time he reenters the office. Part of him thinks they get blown away because there’s only so much a sticky note can do to a brick wall, but even so he likes to think the message gets where it needs to go somehow.

>>

It’s hump day, and Louis finds himself chomping on tacos with Harry far enough away from work that he’s definitely going to be late coming back in for the rest of his day. 

Louis has spent an impressive fifteen minutes ragging on Harry’s latest outfit: a loud orange top paired with skin tight, dark jeans and a blue, orange, and pink floral head scarf that had been covered by the world’s biggest fedora on the walk over. It’s the first time all week he hasn’t had his tits out, but Louis won’t dare admit he’s endeared by it all, by the way Harry so carelessly wears what he wants and somehow still looks good.

“Moving on from me,” Harry says flicking a cube of tomato as Louis’s head, “how are you? How was your morning?

Louis hums back. “Alright. I got enough done that I might be able to leave early. And I got a really clear picture of the chalk today, see,” he says handing over his phone.

_“What if I believe in fate and destiny? What if we’re only fated to the things we choose? What if I’m choosing you?”_

Louis’d had his suspicions that first day, and he still thinks that maybe the message right after the chalker returned was for him, but he’s since come to the conclusion that he does not in fact have a secret admirer. Whoever this kid is, they’ve got it bad for someone. It may not even be anyone in the office, more likely that they just need a big way to express themselves.

“Is it weird that I like to pretend the messages are for me sometimes?” 

Harry chokes on his tortilla. Like legitimately chokes up his last bite and turns red in the face. 

“Oh my god, are you okay?” Louis asks rushing over to give Harry a pat on the back and makes sure he drinks some water. 

“Yeah,” Harry says once he recovers, “wrong pipe is all.”

Louis giggles at him and reprimands him so that he slows down eating, and in all that time he forgets he never got an answer to his question.

>>

Zayn's art show is amazing.

When Harry had heard it would be showcasing downtown he'd coerced Louis into going to dinner with him first. "There's a Moroccan place close by--What d'you mean you've never had Moroccan? Well now we've got to go." Louis hadn’t been sure how the night would go, especially when Harry described the dress code as “hipster chic” but he can’t deny he’s been having a good time. No one bats an eye when they show up together, giggling into the others neck.

Though that could also be because no one can take their eyes off of Zayn's pieces. Months of hard work have really paid off, and Harry and Louis both stop in their tracks when they spot the first canvas. The figures look like they're actually moving, Zayn outdoing even himself with his brushstrokes. As Harry and Louis travel around the expansive room, it feels like they're walking through a slow moving flipbook. They stop at one in particular, green eyes piercing out at them, wild and chaotic.

"Wow," Louis gasps. It seems to be the word of the night. "You make a good model."

Harry gawks at the painting. Turns to Louis. Gawks some more. "Do I look like that? My eyes?"

Louis takes in the painting. That figure feels lively, spontaneous. His eyes look like they’re actually sparkling with charm and mischief. Zayn may have made it palpable to the masses but that, this, has always been Harry to Louis. Somehow in all the commotion he’d missed the work of art sitting right in front of him every day.

"Yeah," Louis answers sweetly, "yeah actually, you do."

Harry’s hand shoots up to the corner of his eye then obviously self conscious. 

“No,” Louis says letting his hand replace Harry’s own as his fingers inadvertently stroke at Harry’s face. “It’s nice. You’re eyes tell your whole story.”

Grinning down at him, Harry murmurs, “Not the whole story.”

“Close enough.” Louis’s fingers are still gentle on Harry’s skin, his thumb now pressed to the apple of Harry’s cheek and feeling warmer from the overlapping of their body heat. He’d ignored the fact that they were basically on a date tonight, dinner and an art show, both decked out in suit jackets and fancy shoes. Louis had almost swallowed his own tongue when Harry had picked him up, his black glittery button down open to the moth, and his skin looking smooth and tan for everyone to see.

If Louis didn’t acknowledge that the night had very date like qualities—Harry picking him up and opening his door, the two of them picking up only one check for dinner, their waitress bringing them one desert to share—then he couldn’t very well mess it up with date night nerves. Though all that does nothing about the fact that he is now pressed up against something tall and gorgeous with a hand firmly on his waist and Louis’s own hand now tracked to the nape of Harry’s neck fiddling with a curl. Harry licks his lips then. Louis hadn’t been aware he was tracking them so, but it’s obvious now that he can’t tear his eyes away from plump pink lips already parted just for him. He feels more than natural when he leans up and feels a soft brush of lips across his own before---

The entire room starts clicking glasses. Louis’s head snaps away just as a woman in a formal black dress announces that they will now hear from the artist himself, Zayn Malik. 

Louis falls back onto his heels and a pang shoots through him as he glances up at Harry—his eyes still closed and a frown on his face. Nosing at his chin in apology, Louis turns to face the front of the room, arms crossed in front of him and one hand pressed to his lip as he tries to be a bigger man who is happy for his best friend instead of a bitter onlooker wishing hell on everyone in the room.

>>

_My grandfather once gave me a compass and said “It’s broken; it doesn’t even point North” I replaced North with Home and it led me straight to you._

Louis’s not sure how long he stares at it, but an idea kick starts in his brain, consumes all his thoughts. He’s left the office with some unlikely excuse of an emergency before nine.

~*~

"Hey, god, sorry I'm late," says Louis rushing over to Harry. Today's a deli shop.

"No worries, I like a late lunch every once and a while," Harry says with an unperturbed smile as he gets up to give Louis a hug. It ends up kind of awkward, with Louis only using one arm. Harry steps back to examine him, quizzical yet amused.

Louis smirks to hide his nervousness. "I wanna show you something," he says shimmying out of his jacket careful to avoid the gauze where it's wrapped around his forearm. 

"Louis, are you ok--" Harry starts alarmed, until he takes a closer look at Louis's set up. "Did you...get a tattoo?"

He only nods, biting his lip to hide his grin. "Yeah. Let's sit first though?"

"Oh, of course. I already got you a sandwich, hope you don't mind."

Louis laughs, euphoria bubbling over beyond his control. "It's fine. I trust your taste buds."

Harry listens as he launches in to the story of his morning then, and Harry's always the best audience: ooohs and aaahs in all the right places even though each story is basically the same. Louis goes to work, looks out the window, gets the breath knocked out of him, wax poetics about it all day, repeat. Harry is always amused.

"So then I just left, and--" Pulling back the delicate material, he extends his forearm to reveal his latest work of art—a sketch of a compass that points to Home. 

"Do you like it?" he can't help asking. "It's not done yet. I didn't have much time, so I have to go back tomorrow to fill in the details."

Harry is silent, but his brain is working overtime. He feels as though this should all be much clearer, but he’s having the hardest time trying to connect what Louis is saying to Louis is showing him. It could be because he’s not breathing and oxygen is having a hard time getting to his brain. Harry has enough of an ordeal remembering to breathe around Louis on his good days but this—this he is not equipped to handle.

"I mean, I probably should have waited to show you the finished product," Louis reasons taking his arm back and looking suddenly awkward. "It'll look bett--"

"You got this for your chalk guy?" Harry interrupts, his voice squeaking incredulously.

"I," Louis says trying to survey the atmosphere, "got it for his words, yes. I mean, I don't know him, so I obviously didn't get it just for Chalk Guy."

Harry still can't quite understand what's going on here. 

"Are you okay?" Louis asks.

Harry lets out a gust of breath, looks up from Louis's arm to his face, and his eyes look just shy of crazed when he speaks. "I guess I just didn't know you liked it this much."

Louis shrugs, something Harry can’t place waving over him. "Don't tell me you're gonna start being down on me about this too.” He sounds annoyed.

"No, I--" 

"Because I get enough of that from the guys, c'mon."

"No. Louis," Harry calls, "I guess I was just caught off guard, but I. I like it quite a lot actually."

Louis eyeballs him. "Really?"

Harry nods as forcefully as he can. Louis got a tattoo for him.

"You wouldn't lie to me?"

"No," Harry says reaching out for Louis's arm. Louis has a memento of Harry’s words permanently etched onto his skin. "Seriously, it's beautiful. You have no idea how much I like it." 

Louis nods slowly then, but he’s gazing deep into Harry’s eyes like he’s trying to get a read on something right under the surface. "Tell me what you're thinking?" 

You’ve made me a part of you, he bites back. He scoots his chair a little closer to Louis before he speaks. 

"You're just. You're kind of incredible."

Heat rises up Louis's neck at the shift in conversation, and he starts to bat him away but Harry is persistent. He takes both of Louis's hands in his own, envelopes them in warm heat and soft skin.

"You," he continues, "are so full of life and spontaneity that it literally can't be contained within yourself. It has to spill over into everyone you meet. I’m serious, from the day I met you, I knew I wanted to know as much of you as I could, and I knew I’d be better for it because I can tell when someone’s a good person who deserves good things and you, Louis, you are one of the best I’ve ever known.”

Louis. Louis looks stunned to the spot. He fishmouths around words that won't come out, Harry merely leveling him with a patient look as he processes. "Fuck," is the best Louis can come up with, juxtaposed nicely with the eloquent speech Harry's just given him. "You give all your friends these sonnets?" he asks, head still swimming."

Harry smirks, lets go of Louis's hands to rest his elbow on the table top. "No, just the special ones," he answers with eyes that might as well be sparkling they're so big and honest. 

"I'm a special friend?" Louis asks, sounding more bashful than Harry’s used to hearing him.

"The most special of all, I'd reckon." 

"Oh," is all Louis offers, but he doesn't need more because Harry is in his space then, hand finding a place on Louis's neck and presence wrapping right around Louis's heart. It makes sense then that it's Louis who takes the final leap, molds their lips together while he anchors himself on Harry's thigh. It's soft and sweet, makes Harry’s body feel like molasses while his heart beats like a hummingbird. 

Louis presses his tongue gingerly against Harry’s lips, and they let out a collective sigh when he enters swiping expertly into Harry’s mouth. Louis’s hand places at Harry’s waist scratching atop his jumper, and Harry has just enough presence of mind left to remember they're still in a public place and pulls away before they take it too far. Louis looks about as dizzy as he feels, eyes glazed and mouth open. 

"Hi," he says dazedly. Louis laughs then and pulls him into an embrace. 

"Hi," he answers stroking at Harry's hair and trying to calm his heartbeat.

Harry wistfully thinks to himself that maybe the compass works after all. Louis might be thinking the same.

~*~

It's not until Louis is back at the office after lunch, floating on cloud nine as he gazes out the window that he gets it. He hides a smile in his hand because honestly, he is such an idiot.

>>

Louis’s not sure how the events of the last two months have led him here, up at five am and crouching behind a building, the ache in his thighs growing by the second. Chalk Guy is already at work, but Louis can’t see any of his face with his hood pulled up just so. 

But Louis is certain. Mostly.

Mr. Chalk steps back to survey his work after what feels like ages, and Louis knows it’s now or never, so he shakes his nerves and makes himself known. 

“Excuse me,” he says giving Chalk Guy a fright as he glances quickly at Louis before making to run for it.

“Wait,” Louis says panicking. “Harry!”

He halts then, turns his head with the hood still up but refuses to turn around completely. 

Louis takes that as reason enough to approach him.

“Haz?” he asks gently reaching for the hood to bring it down. Springy bits come out of hiding and Harry finally turns to face him, bashful and cheeks flaming. 

“Hi,” he mumbles, not able to meet Louis’s eye for more than a few seconds at a time. 

Louis should probably say something, considering this is kind of monumental for the both of them, but he just. Can’t find the words. He had been pretty positive that it was Harry, but seeing it in the flesh is something else all together and it makes his head spin as he tries to connect all the dots.

“The whole time?” he asks.

Harry nods, lets the toe of one boot play at the heel of the other. “I was going to tell you. I swear!” Harry starts to ramble. “But it was easier to put the words here,” he points at the wall, “instead of, um, here,” he says as his hand gestures between them. “I figured you like the anonymity and I didn’t want to ruin it, and—“

Louis kisses him. He’s up on his toes and his arms are around Harry’s neck, and his head is still spinning, but he thinks maybe Harry’s the perfect person to float away with. It’s been months, and Louis lets all the love and butterflies and chills he’s felt from Harry’s words and Harry’s art and Harry’s smile wash over both of them with the steady press of his lips as he keeps their bodies close together. 

Harry kisses him seeming surprised before he gives it back in earnest, nipping at Louis’s lip and tugging all his excitement to the surface.

“What’d you write today?” Louis murmurs against Harry’s lips.

Harry pulls back and chuckles. “Come see,” he says, moving Louis a few paces down. They stop to look at it side by side.

_I taste [you] and realize I have been starving. –Jodi Picoult ♥_

Louis squeezes Harry’s hand in his own then lets go to fish out a sticky note so he can write a little message.

_“I like this one a lot.”_

Harry laughs reading it and cups his hand on Louis’s shoulder. “You say that about all of them.”

Louis turns in their embrace so that they’re chest to chest, fingers still interlocked. “That’s because I like all of them.”

A smile twists at the corner of Harry’s mouth, but he nods nonetheless and pulls Louis closer. 

“Any other secret identities of yours I should be aware of? Not secretly batman, are you?”

“I think one secret identity is enough for me actually,” says Harry.

Louis hums. “Well it’s still very early, so you’re going to take me to breakfast, and I’m going to interrogate you until I know every detail of your mysterious doings. How’s that sound?”

“There’s a bakery I’ve been meaning to take you to not far from here actually,” Harry replies. 

“Good answer,” Louis says and he loosens his grip on Harry as he bends down to pick up his supplies and put them into his backpack.

Louis expects him to lead the way, but instead there’s a pregnant pause between them that makes Louis scrunch his brow.

“You’re not like, freaked though?” Harry asks.

Louis lets out a breath and recaptures Harry’s hands. 

“Harry,” he says gently, “You’ve been the brightest part of my day for two months now. And you’re the sweetest secret admirer I’ve ever had.” He pauses to ensure Harry is actually hearing him. “So, no I don’t think ‘freaked’ is the word I’d use.”

Harry swings their hands together then, like he can’t contain the joy bubbling out of him. “Okay. Maybe you can tell me what words you would use over breakfast?”

Louis beams at him. “Sure thing. We’ve got time. Also I don’t have to worry about you having a thing for that Tyler guy, do I?”

A belly laugh erupts out of Harry that he presses into the top of Louis’s head. “No, I just think he’s got a lot to say that pertains to us.”

“Maybe he’s stalking us for inspiration.”

“Oh well we can keep him in business for years. Easy.”

~*~

_“I will waste not a word_  
For you live  
In them all.  
Trust me  
To never leave you  
Homeless.”  
-Tyler Knott Gregson 

**Author's Note:**

> A few things!
> 
> 1\. A GIANT THANK YOU to goldenquill because this prompt was amazing, and I had so much fun writing it!!
> 
> 2\. So many kudos to everyone involved in running this exchange because you're all blowing my mind :)
> 
> 3\. [THIS](http://igeekdads.com/wp-content/uploads/2014/04/chalk-fridge-final1.jpg) is 100% the refrigerator in Harry and Louis's future home together. Because Harry still wants to give his boy little messages everyday :')
> 
> 4\. Someone told me that Totino's pizza rolls are not a thing in the UK and that makes me SAD, but I refused to change it because this is an AU and I will do as I please. (For the sake of clarification, you can find them in the frozen foods section and they're super easy to prepare. And they taste nothing like pizza.)
> 
> 5\. THANK YOU ALL FOR READING. Hope you enjoyed it ♥ Feedback forever appreciated!
> 
> 6\. [tumblr](http://www.wildhalos.tumblr.com/)


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